Dad and Wes were getting all dolled up to take headshots of each other. I told Dad he needed to comb his hair and that Wes had some 12 year old gel upstairs if he needed it.
I was in the kitchen doing my thing when Dad came thundering down the stairs and into the kitchen with an, ‘FCOL! I just went through every single drawer and cabinet in your bathroom and could not find one brush or comb! Do you guys not brush your hair?!!’.
I’m not sure what it was, his expression, my fatigue, pregnancy, or that fact that it was all truth, but I fell into the counter as I started shaking with laugher, wiping away tears as I tried to get out, ‘No, no we don’t brush our hair,’ (wheeze, snort, gale of laughter), ‘In fact, I’m always super delighted when we get in the car to go someplace and there’s a brush sitting there,’ (wipe away tears, try to take another breath), ‘Like, awesome! I can run a brush through my hair before we go to ….’.
At this point Mom came down and was like, ‘I told him he would not find a brush in there,’ and Dad went thundering outside to try to find a brush in my car, only to realize my car was gone and came in muttering about how helpful that was and how I was just like Grama and off I went again.
Luckily, Mom had everything he ever needed in her purse.
And happily, Ev found a brush the next day and we did our grooming thing our way.
And maybe, in five years or so, Dad will be able to find a brush in my drawer. But I kinda doubt it. hahahaa.